


together?

by curarpiktano



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Gen, Nonbinary Crona (Soul Eater), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, They/Them Crona, but when don’t they, crona cries, crona lives with maka and soul, gotten some therapy, medusa is a horrible mom, slightly ooc ragnarok, so everyone’s emotionally matured a bit, time skip of a few years, you know the deal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29709969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curarpiktano/pseuds/curarpiktano
Summary: a few years after the fight with asura, crona’s still just as damaged by medusa’s influence. things are looking up, but as with any trauma, it’s a slow process. thankfully, they have a support group within their friends, as well as  unexpected consolation in their weapon, ragnarok...this is not a shipping thing please do not ship ragnarok and crona in the context of this please please please
Relationships: Crona & Ragnarok (Soul Eater), Maka Albarn & Crona
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	together?

They still felt her.

They felt her in their bones, weighing them down as they played basketball with their classmates- no, their friends. They had friends now. They had Maka, and Soul, and Kid and the twins, and Tsubaki, and Black Star when he wasn’t too loud. And they had the teachers, and they had Blair. Blair confused them, but at least they could deal with that.

They felt her coiling around their stomach. Every time Maka made breakfast in the mornings, they’d walk out to the main room of the house to eat with them, but they’d get so afraid. Afraid of her. They didn’t deserve the meal, she’d take it from them, she always did, they knew she would. And, weak at the knees, they’d rush to the bathroom, lucky if they got there before throwing up all over the floor, stomach constricted by a snake that was long dead. Maka would say it was fine, she could clean it up, go back to sleep for a bit, do you need some water, Crona?

They’d take a glass of water, hands shaking so badly that they feared they’d drop and break it. Slow sips. Each one prompted another gag, rippling through their throat like a tsunami, and they swallowed the threat of hurling again back thickly. Maka would rub small circles on their back, humming a soft tune that they couldn’t recognize.

They felt her in the jolts that woke them up at night. They would be one second away from the cold static of sleep, and they’d suddenly feel the shock of falling off of a precipice, like a sucker punch to the gut. And after that, they’d be lucky if they slept at all that night.

On such a night, when they were rocking back and forth with their arms wrapped tight around them, Ragnarok came out. He’d gotten much kinder over the years, and for this, Crona was secretly thankful. It definitely improved their resonance, and as Crona became stronger, so did Ragnarok.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Crona craned their head up to look at the figure in their back, shuddering at the cold of the tears on their face. “Hey Ragnarok.”

“She’s only still alive for as long as you let her get to you like this, you know.”

Quiet suffocated them both, for one, two, three, four seconds.

“I know that.”

“Then why do you let her?”

Silence.

A soft whine, and a head slamming down into bony knees.

“Hey, woah woah woah. Not the response I was expecting. It’s been years, Crona, you’re stronger than this.”

Hiccuping, tears streamed down pale moon-lit cheeks. 

“But I’m not, Ragnarok. I’m not stronger than this, I…” They stared at their palms. 

“I killed so many people.”

Ragnarok lowered his head. “We did. Don’t think for a second you’re alone in that.”

More silence, a sniffle.

“Hey Ragnarok?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you… miss not being trapped inside of me?”

A pause. He lifted his perpetually gloved hand to his round chin, and prepared a reply.

“I don’t.”

Crona looked back up at Ragnarok. “....What?”

“I don’t miss being alone. That’s what you’re asking, right?”

A nod.

“Before you,” the figure mused, “it was all bloodshed. Take the amount we’ve killed together, and multiply it by itself.”

“And then the witch found me. And I became a part of you. You were so weak, so puny, and I was so power hungry. I hated being with you because you held me back. And Medusa egged me on, used my anger to help her control you. All under the guise that she’d make us more powerful with all those souls.”

“But don’t you want to be a Kishin?”

A chuckle, and Ragnarok placed a hand on Crona’s head. Their hair was still damp from the sweaty nightmare they’d had, and they smelled faintly of Maka’s shampoo.

“I did. And we could have been. But was that ever what you wanted?”

“No. And I definitely don’t want it now.”

“Well? What is it that you want, then?”

Crona thought hard about this. What had they wanted all those years? Medusa, their mother, had used them for her own gain. What she wanted of them wasn’t what they wanted for themselves, and had you asked Crona what they wanted at Asura’s revival, they’d have said “to be friends with Maka Albarn”. But now, they’d achieved that. Their goal throughout their entire childhood was simply “make Medusa happy”. “Make Medusa proud”.

But they’d let her hurt them. They’d let her make them hurt others. They’d let her make them into her toy, her monster. Her weapon of destruction. Her little experiment.

“I want… I want to start over. I want to be free from her. I want to have a normal life as a student, and I want to have friends. And I want to grow stronger, for myself. No one else.”

Ragnarok, despite his crossed out face, smiled at the meister beneath him, who’d grown so much.

“Then that’s what I want, too. And we’ll do it together.”

“Together?”

“Not like I can go anywhere, right?” And Ragnarok, with a swift chop, bopped Crona on the head. “Besides, if I stick with ya, I can keep pickin’ on you now and then! My way of makin’ up for all the times I actually meant it.”

Crona giggled, a welcome sound in the 3am cold. 

“By the way, kid.”

A pink head craned up again. “Looking at you hurts my neck, I can’t handle doing this for much longer.”

“I’m sorry. For everything I’ve ever done to you. I was as much under Medusa’s control as you were. Let’s… let’s fix the damage she did. Together, okay?”

“Together.”

And Ragnarok was gone as soon as he’d appeared. With a sigh, Crona laid back down.

**Author's Note:**

> i love them,,, i’m sorry its so short but please let me know how i did ! i know ragnarok’s way too nice but i like to think he emotionally matured too over the years; after all, he’s got a personality too. and he was likely psychologically damaged by medusa too, but with a different outward display. not every trauma survivor ends up introverted and afraid of the world, and i think it’s important to show that !!


End file.
